Moonstone

Welcome to Moonstone – my little corner of the Internet. On this site, you can explore a world of creative writing – short stories, poetry, travel non-fiction, and novels. Since it is a passion of mine, I also have a page set aside for travel photography.

For those who visiting for first time, a brief explanation might help. New poetry and photography are posted at the bottom of this page and are then archived on their own separate menu pages. New short stories and travel non-fiction are first posted on their menu pages, and then they are archived at the bottom of this page in the section called “On the Shelf.”

I hope you take some time to enjoy yourself and explore my creations.

Featured Works

The new poem, “Lion in the Grass” came to me after I had the experience of staring eye to eye with a male lion protection its giraffe kill. I was in an open air safari vehicle, and the only thing that separated us was some forty feet of air – it was a very sobering encounter.

Zero Time is available in novel and Kindle formats from Amazon.com, Amazon.ca, and Createspace.com. Alternate ebook formats are available at Smashwords.com. If you prefer to deal with humans, Zero Time and also be ordered from your local bookstore.

Don’t forget to visit my writer’s page on Facebook, then view the “Kenneth D. Reimer” Channel on YouTube to enjoy the growing collection of travel videos. If these first two media platforms pique your interest, you can also find me on Google+.

Literature is the passion that has shaped my life, and I can trace its genesis to a single day in my youth when my older brother, Roland, gave me a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Robert E. Howard and H.P. Lovecraft soon joined the ranks of Tolkien, and I found myself on a path of literary exploration that has yet to reach its culmination.

The Lamb White Days is my first published novel. My second major work, Zero Time, is a time-travel story in which wanderers from the near and distant future travel back to our present day. It will soon be followed by a horror novel titled Ashes. This tale explores the lives of an underground society where a modern-day werewolf and vampires seek their prey in the moonlit streets of Canmore, Alberta. I’m also working on a collection of short stories.

On the Shelf

In the Works

The setting for my next short story is a planet called Jarcobain where a group of colonists struggle for independence from a galactic government. Thrown into the mix is the indigenous population of the planet who would like to drive all of the invaders from their lands. This is straight up science fiction told from the point of view of a private in the army.

Lion in the Grass

Its gaze settles on me,
and for a moment
we regard one another
eye to eye
over a span of forty empty feet
and seventy thousand years.

Forty empty feet . . . .
How long would it take?
Two heartbeats?
Three?

The lion—
black-maned and blood-tattooed—
rests behind the arch
of a flesh-stripped ribcage.
The giraffe’s legs and neck
stretch away, half eaten
and seeming to merge with the dry earth.
The indistinct remnants of its stomach
lie in a heap,
torn at by gibbering vultures
and marabou storks—
the grim undertakers of the wild.

How long would it take?

I know I should look away,
break this connection,
but the golden eyes have me transfixed—
exhilarated and terrified for longer
than it would take this magnificent killer
to charge our open-sided Land Cruiser
and pull me to my death.

I envision the precise explosion
of muscle and claw,
my frozen horror,
and the undeniable realization
that would come a moment too late.

Then its attention drifts away,
passes languidly over the ragged scavengers
and up to the sky
where a bird has taken flight.

The trance is broken.
I’ve scarcely breathed.
My shoulders relax with an unsteady exhalation,
and I’m thankful to be no more than
a mild curiosity—
of less interest than the vultures
and jackals that edge near,
hungry for any scrap
that this tragic animal
is willing to disregard.

Eventually, time draws us away.
Our vehicle rumbles to life.
I twist backward, staring
until only the treetop vultures are visible.

Later, I’ll parse this moment
of our extraordinary encounter
and struggle to apprehend its visceral truth
of life and death.